


IOU: One Cup of Coffee

by RobinsGirlWonder



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, First Time, One-Shot, undercover hijinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 17:47:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2034291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinsGirlWonder/pseuds/RobinsGirlWonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gift for my buddy Tessa. One-shot. Sharon Carter goes undercover for the CIA after the events of Winter Soldier without really having a chance to completely hash out Steve's trust issues with her. When he ends up there as well, the two of them get a little swept up in the chase.</p>
            </blockquote>





	IOU: One Cup of Coffee

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OnceUponAPemberlyDream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnceUponAPemberlyDream/gifts).



**** LONDON ROYAL OPERA HOUSE  
 _[Lat. 38.68, Long. -96.51]_  
 _[2134 GMT]_

 

If this lieutenant didn’t start giving information she could use, Sharon was going to have to pull out one of the bobby pins in her very tight bun and stab him in the neck with it. Right between muscles. Where he could truly feel how soul-piercingly bored she was with his small talk.

He was muttering something about how much he liked her dress, along with a few choice phrases regarding what he wanted to do with her _out_ of it. _Great._ She snapped her gaze away from the other superior officer from the Russian military that had attended the conference, an easy, innocent grin crossing her features as she feigned ignorance. “I’m sorry?”

“I said,” The lieutenant reached out, his hand wandering uncomfortably to her bare shoulder. The crimson dress she’d worn was a masterpiece of fashion, but the heart-shaped bodice and asymmetrical one strap over her left shoulder had garnered exactly the attention she knew she needed and didn’t want. “Your Russian is quite good.”

“Oh,” She breathed, beaming a million-watt smile his direction. “Well,” She shrugged coquettishly, using his obvious interest to her advantage. “‘Spasiba.’” She replied with the exaggerated, obviously poor pronunciation of the basic Russian phrase. It had not been her decision for her cover to present herself as a vapid, blonde neckpiece for some other diplomat; but, her options were limited. The conference’s list of attendees had been secured for months before she’d finally been cleared for field work with the CIA. She should have been glad just to have the opportunity. Sharon let the calloused Russian’s hands tug her closer, and she melted against him in a practiced motion.

Sharon had joined the CIA for one reason, and she knew it. With SHIELD out of commission, she had to start over. The CIA was the option that allowed her to be someone else. With Fury gone, her last mission to protect Steve a pretty dismal failure, and a grudge being nursed against Rumlow that she’d never feel satisfaction for, the CIA offered her the promise of reinvention.

Too bad she was finding that there were things that Sharon just… wasn’t comfortable with.

She was pretty sure smelling vodka breath while she cozied up to a has-been who had critical information about the KGB connection to HYDRA was one of them.

“You should come back to the room with me, da?” More vodka breath. Sharon swallowed back the rolling of her stomach and her eyes, instead smiling back at him as if the sun shone out of his a-

“Excuse me.”

Sharon tensed at the voice behind her. She’d spent a lot of time training for this particular operation, but that was… one variable she had _not_ expected. Swallowing, she slowly turned to face the newcomer.

Oh, god. Yup. That was him.

 “Um…” Sharon’s mind raced. There were a million things she could say to him, not the least of which was _what the hell are you doing here?_ Also good alternatives were _I thought you said you wouldn’t have time to call because you were busy at Stark Tower_ and _I thought you said the whole honesty thing wasn’t working and you needed time to think about how I lied to you._ All of those sounded great, and each one of them could have easily been said. Instead, much to the seasoned SHIELD agent’s chagrin, all that came out was… “Hi.” Sharon blurted. If the Russian noticed her discomfort, he didn’t say anything yet. “What’re you doing here?”

 

Steve was pretty sure he had dibs on that question. In fact, Steve was _positive_ that he was the one who should have been allowed to ask that first. It actually was kind of annoying that now he was standing there with his mouth open, trying to figure out how _she_ had managed to ask exactly what _he_ was going to ask.

“I…” Steve inhaled while he tried to buy some time. The last time he’d seen Sharon, the two of them had had a cup of coffee near L’Enfant Plaza before he’d been called away to New York. They hadn’t discussed any sort of travel. To be fair, they were still having conversations that he’d had with “Kate” months ago, including who exactly her Aunt was. And now she was… standing in front of him at the London Royal Opera House in the middle of a gala event that just happened to have two of Lukin’s former comrades attending. One of which had his arms around her, and that just… really didn’t sit well with him. “I was…” Steve was never a master at lying, or conducting coherent conversation around women he was actually interested in. Apparently, London or DC, that would not change when it came to Sharon. Even when he was actually there for reasons completely unrelated to his love life or lack thereof. That particular though gave Steve the necessary jolt to gain some of his confidence back. Clearing his throat, he tried again, this time more certain. “I was hoping… we could talk.”

“Kto eto?” Steve could feel the scowl beginning to darken his features as the Russian’s hands wandered more than he cared to see on any lady. Sharon, however, seemed to have expected the advance, as she artfully twisted herself from his grasp and kissed his cheek.

“Don’t worry. He’s with Mister Miller - “ Steve had to guess that was relevant, but he didn’t know the guy. “So, I just need to let him know that I won’t need a ride back to the hotel…” Sharon’s finger traced the salt and pepper beard of her mark. Steve’s stomach rolled at the sight, but he had to admit that he was certainly impressed with how easily she had this guy wrapped around her little finger.

Yeah, being impressed didn’t outweigh how much he didn’t like seeing it, though.

While Steve was still standing there in his uncomfortable tux, wondering why she was there and more importantly, why she was cozying up to one of the only two men Steve needed to speak with, Sharon looped her arm around his and tugged him - quite forcefully - onto the dance floor.

“Sharon, what’re you doing?”

“Tonight, it’s Miss Amanda Richmond.” Without missing a beat, she’d slipped her hands into his and held them out in what was definitely a position to dance. “I’m covering our collective asses, Captain, so I suggest you go along with it.”

Steve glanced down between them, expecting to watch their feet. Instead, he found himself staring right down her dress, and snapped his head back up to attention, clearing his throat. “I… Sharon, hate to break it to you, but I don’t dance.”

“I didn’t pick it because I thought you would like it, Rogers.”

“No, I don’t dance because I’ve _never_ danced.” He clarified. When he’d agreed to fly this one solo - Sam was in Kiev following another lead - he hadn’t expected to have to deal with Sharon’s… everything.

“Well, just because you haven’t found the right partner doesn’t mean they don’t exist.” She muttered softly, soothing and coaxing him along the floor. Once the shock wore off at hearing something so… similar to what Peggy had once told him, the tension between them seemed to dissipate as music filtered around them. Sharon gently steered them towards the center of the floor, where several other couples were swaying as well. “No offense, Captain, but you’re pretty tense. And I’d rather not tip off Borodin if I can help it.”

“That might be an issue,” He found his eyes drawn to hers, even though he wanted to be focusing on the job. In fact, any other time he had been in this sort of situation, he’d been able to put it aside. At the moment, though, he found himself wanting to just forget about the mission and ask if they could get that next coffee they’d discussed weeks ago. Maybe that one could be in a hotel room where he could feel like they had potential to let down their guard. The fact was, no amount of telling himself that dating Sharon had been solely dependent on her pretending to be “Kate” was going to change that… he was still very much interested. And distracted.

What was it about Carter women and red dresses?

“Steve, I’m here for my job. Borodin has information we need.”

“And he has information _I_ need.” Steve urged, finding it incredibly easy to focus on the mission when she was busy trying to poach it. It didn’t make the tux itch less, but, he wouldn’t have everything.

“Are _you_ here for the CIA?” She asked, as if she was asking him if he was sure.

“No, I’m here for… other business.” Steve frowned. “You know I don’t work for the CIA, but I don’t have to answer to you, either.”

“Well, I don’t want to blow my cover, and as far as Borodin can tell, he doesn’t know you and he won’t talk to you. Me, though.” Sharon hit him with a smile that he was fairly certain might have been illegal in some countries. “He likes the dress.”

Steve’s feet came to an unsurprising halt as he caught onto her insinuation. “You’re not...?” She rose an eyebrow in silent questioning. “Judging from our last conversations, with the whole you-not-ever-getting-coffee-with-me-while-undercover subject, I didn’t think you would… change your mind because you were with a different agency.” The very thought of Sharon cozying up to anyone else at the gala simply to gain information had made his stomach turn again. Plus, there was a very jealous part - and at least he recognized it as such - that figured mission or no mission, he wanted to make it clear to Sharon that his reasons for leaving town had not been because of a lack of interest.

The mixture of annoyance and insult that Sharon responded with told him he could not have been further off the mark if he’d tried. _Oh, smooth, Rogers._ He berated himself as he felt her hands tense against his and she came to a stop as well.

“You did not just suggest what it sounded like you were suggesting.” The amusement and playful looks were gone. In their place was the sort of smoldering glower that Steve had associated with being through the sights of a firearm. Not a good place to be.

“I’m - I was just saying - “ Oh, he needed to stop. He didn’t really have a diplomatic way of telling her what he was thinking.

“That you think I’d sleep with a mark because it would get me information?” She pulled her hands free from his, propping them on her hips. At the moment, the illusion of their cover didn’t matter. “Steve, I said to you, very clearly, last time we talked that there are lines I won’t cross. That hasn’t changed.”

“It’s just…” _Steve, why are you still talking?_ “I mean, you seemed pretty cozy with this guy…” _You’re making her angrier._

“If anything, I would have gotten back to his room and plied him with liquor until he passed out. Steve, if I didn’t sleep with _you_ when I was watching you, what on earth makes you think I’d change my mind for _anything_ else?”

Again, Steve’s brain had to take another minute to process what he’d heard. Judging by Sharon’s expression, she was just as shocked by her admission as he was. His mouth worked to form a sentence, but nothing happened.

Before he could piecemeal a sentence together, he could hear the footsteps approaching from the  it looked like, for the moment, their dance was over. The lieutenant’s knee had been injured decades before in Afghanistan, and gave him a fairly noticeable limp. It was also why Steve had felt this officer would have been the easier one to extract information from, given that the officer’s record also had mentions of his love of vodka and war stories.

“Are you finished with your ‘friend’, my sweet?” Borodin’s voice was less articulate than before, probably from another few gulps of drink. And his wandering hands were less restrained as he moved to pull Sharon to his side.

Steve was really starting to get tired of seeing this guy’s hands on Sharon, where she clearly didn’t want them. Besides, he wasn’t exactly sure _what_ she’d get out of him. As far as Steve was concerned, it was time to step in. There were other ways that Sharon could get through her mission, ones that didn’t involve Borodin cornering her. “Not exactly - ”

“Actually, we are.” Sharon’s voice didn’t just take the wind out of his sails, she punched holes in them. “Steve was actually just going to go find Mister Miller and let him know that I was your date for the evening.” The blonde turned those big brown eyes of her towards him, silently daring him to challenge her.

“Right…” Steve forced a smile, clapping his hands a little in false recollection. “I was. But, I haven’t seen Mr. Miller this evening, and since I arrived late, I was hoping that Miss Richmond might be able to point me in the right direction.”

Any hopes that Sharon would offer to escort him were shot down as she simply pointed towards the bar. “Please let him know that I won’t be needing an escort tonight.” She leveled a slightly more steely look at him, one that went straight to his spine and reminded him, yet again, why he’d had such a hard time putting her out of his mind. “I think I can handle Lieutenant Borodin just fine.”

The Lieutenant Borodin’s raspy laugh was all Steve found himself brooding over long after Sharon had slipped away with him.

And he had a suspicion that she knew it would be sticking with him the rest of the night.

 

_[2301 GMT]_

“What part of ‘I can handle the lieutenant just fine’ did not get through your star-spangled skull?!” Sharon hissed, breathless as she finally came to a halt after climbing three flights of stairs. Ahead of her, Rogers looked as if he had been strolling alongside her while they’d been running for their lives. Except, of course, for the scowl across his features that she was attempting to ignore.

“How about the part where he had made you and had three of his goons waiting for you?”

Shots rang out below her, and she braced herself for the result of leaving herself open on the steps.

Instead, she felt the world completely vanish beneath her, and everything spun before it finally settled. Her eyes had squeezed shut without even realizing, but she could recognize the feeling of strong arms around her when she felt it. Opening her eyes, she glanced around until she found herself looking up at Steve holding her bridal-style. “I could mention the bullets that just came from downstairs, but I feel like that _might_ feel a little I-told-you-so.” He flashed her a grin, a little too smug for her liking. In retaliation, she swatted at his shoulder, kicking a little to untangle her dress.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, but three goons I could’ve handled. In fact, I _did_ handle them.” Steve was still holding her tightly, not conceding in either her point or his physical advantage the moment. “You can put me down.” She reiterated.

Another volley from below followed the first. Steve whirled them around, shielding her with his body, pinning her against the wall while he glanced towards the stairs leading towards the upper floors. It hadn’t been a plan, but they’d both had the same idea to try to sneak into an unoccupied room. They’d just been waylaid in the stairwell.

As they both surveyed their options, Sharon glanced down at the stairs down, then then stairs back up, and finally back to Steve. “Okay, if you really don’t feel like putting me down at the second, I can respect that.”

 “Glad you have my back on this one.” He replied, the humor at their situation apparently more obvious to him than it was to her. “Although, I have to admit this is not how I expected to have my arms around you for the first time.” Sharon shot him a shocked, wide-eyed stare. Steve’s mouth worked aimlessly for a moment before he finally managed a breathless chuckle. “That… okay, that came out a little differently than it sounded in my head.”

Shouts of infuriated Russian spurred Steve into action. His swing back around to take the stairs two at a time was so violent she had to loop an arm around his neck to hold on. “Not exactly like riding shotgun in a ferrari…” She breathed as he made his way up the stairs and then turned to use his back to open the nearest hallway access.

“Tell you what, next time you can carry me.” He remarked before coming to a halt and sliding her back to her feet effortlessly. She watched him as he turned to block the access door, dragging an end table in front of it. It wouldn’t do much to stop them if they really wanted to get in, but it gave them time. “You wouldn’t happen to know an easy way of getting into these rooms that doesn’t involve me punching the card reader, do you?”

“Well,” She reached down to pull at the fabric of her dress until it hiked well above her knee, revealing her utility holster strapped along her inner thigh. The floor-length material had done a fantastic job of highlighting the top of her dress, and to disguise what she held beneath it. “I didn’t bring my full field kit, but I should have something.” Flipping open the small cartridge on the holster, she pulled free her clone swipe card and agency-issued cell phone. It took all her restraint not to steal a glance back his direction. Was it too much to hope that maybe Steve would like what he saw? After all, the dancing around things had started the moment they ran into each other. “This is going to be slightly awkward if we end up walking in on someone, though.” She was speaking half to herself as she used the clone function on her phone to reprogram the swipe card to the lock unit in front of her.

“Having to think on your feet doesn’t seem to be much of a problem,” Steve sidled up behind her, a little closer than she had expected. “Just make something up. Can’t be more difficult than coming up with the infectious disease ward.”

Sharon shot him an annoyed glance. “That was the _one_ time, and I thought someone was in your apartment. Why else do you think I mentioned that your radio was on?”

“Well, I thought you were just being neighborly,” He teased. He was actually _teasing._ “‘Neighbor.’”

“Ha. Ha.” She sarcastically retorted before using the cloned card to unlock the door. Taking a deep breath, she turned the handle, praying that there was no one else on the other side. “Uh… room service?” She ventured as she kept opening the door wider, feigning a passable British accent.

Silence was her only reply. She stole another glance back at Steve. If she didn’t know any better, she would’ve thought that he was excited by how bottoms-up her mission had gone. “Doesn’t seem like anyone’s home.” He whispered.

Opening the door wide, they could see the room was definitely unoccupied.  Wasting no more time, she stepped in far enough that Steve could close the door behind him.

“Probably want to keep the lights off for now.” He remarked, swiping his hand across the light switch and shutting off the only couple of lights in the room.

Sharon found herself reaching out for the wall that she knew had to be there, but with the curtains pulled, the room was just a void as far as she was concerned. “Not to knock your strategy there, Captain, but I could’ve used a warning.” She closed her eyes for a long moment before venturing another look at the world around her. Slightly more accustomed to the darkness, she could at least see Steve’s silhouette as he lingered near the door.

She took a few steps towards him to see if she could get a fair evaluation of whether or not they’d been pursued. A couple of angry thunks and the crash of that end table in the hall caught her off-guard. She must have flinched, maybe even jumped, because he turned to face her, resting his hand on her shoulder, as if to reassure her. The foot traffic picked up until it came to a halt outside their door. Her breath caught in her throat.

A pounding at the door made her jump. “Open up!” Without thinking, she reached for a firearm that she’d thought was at her side, only to remember that it was still under what felt like miles of cloth. Steve’s hand shifted, pulling her closer and pressing his back against the door. Whoever was on the other side, any one of Borodin’s goons, would have to go through Steve before they’d reach her.

It was flattering, that was for sure. And as much as Sharon was loathe to admit, it was comforting. She really didn’t want him to let go.

Another slam. Another shout. Then, finally, they moved on.

Neither of them moved as they heard the hired thugs make their way down the hallway. None of the rooms answered them on their tirade. Either they were smart enough not to, or this floor had barely been booked. She wasn’t terribly curious about the why or how, she was just glad that those thugs were soon heard leaving back the way they came, snarling in Russian about how they must have missed them. One of them snarked that they should just shoot through every lock on the floor, but was silenced as they headed back down the stairs.

Once silence had settled around them again, Sharon let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding with relief. “Jeez, I really miss how SHIELD built ops. This never would’ve happened.” Now that she was used to the darkness, she forced herself to pull back. Not that she was complaining at the proximity, but, they had bigger things to think about.

“Think the other agent will figure out your location?”

“What agent?” She asked, not giving a thought to what she’d said earlier.

“Mister Miller. Your backup. The guy you came with.”

Sharon’s stomach turned in embarrassment. “Ah. Yeah, that was a cover. I have no backup. You are my accidental backup.”

“They sent you _alone_?” While Sharon couldn’t see it, she knew the look of disbelief that followed that tone of voice.

“Easy, it wasn’t a big deal. This was supposed to be very cut and dry.” Reaching out blindly for the wall, she found her hand brushing against the fabric of his jacket instead. “ _Someone_ wasn’t supposed to be in the middle of me getting close to the Russians.”

His hand suddenly circled around her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. “They should know better. This isn’t about your competence, it’s about their ability to ensure that they don’t lose good people because they’re cheap.”

It was touching, hearing him worry about her safety. But, she wasn’t naive enough to think that it was a worry he felt only for her. It was Steve’s natural state to foresee military strategy, both large and small.

“They’re going to be back.” She managed to say as she gently slipped his grip. “They’ll either steal a keycard, or take out a guard to get one.” She turned back to the hotel room, surveying options. The single king bed faced the TV and dresser. Ahead, she could see one large bay window with curtains drawn. “So, we need to find a way out before they’re here.” She gingerly traversed the length of the bedroom.

“We also need to find a way to warn the rest of the floor if they consider taking shots at anyone else.”

Sharon paused at the window, moving to open it. A few forceful tugs didn’t yield more than sore fingers. “Damn. This window’s sealed, and we look…” She cast a glance down at the world below. “Twenty stories up. We’re not getting out this way.”

“And we can’t pull the fire alarm. That might spook them, they could end up firing into a crowd.”

She turned to face him, reaching up to adjust the one shoulder strap she had. Next time she wanted to look fashionable on an op, she needed to remind herself why she’d nearly sprained her ankle pursuing Rumlow. “So, then we head back out the way we came. They didn’t seem too bright, and while Borodin has no problem going after us, I doubt he would be able to explain how an entire floor ended up dead with Soviet-made slugs buried in their chests.”

“So, what’re you suggesting?” Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his hands propped on his hips, his weight on his right foot.

“We need a distraction. Enough to make them think that it’s business as usual, that we left.”

The door to the stairwell opened somewhere down the hall again, and the two exchanged worried glances. She followed after him to the door, barely suppressing the urge to shove him out of the way so she could see through the peep hole.

“They won’t still be here,” She could hear one of them grumbling as they began to walk down the hallway. “Borodin is stupid. And old. He drinks too much. That’s why he thinks they wouldn’t have moved.”

“Just do what he said.” Another remarked. “We have the key card.”

“If we don’t find them in the first five rooms, we should go.” The third goon replied as they came closer. Sharon definitely had to agree with the idea of them dropping the search, but the more pressing issue was still at hand. If they walked in there, they wouldn’t have anywhere to hide.

“They’re going to come in here.” She breathed, barely a whisper. “There’s nowhere to hide.”

Steve’s gaze remained on the view past the door for another long moment before turning to face her. “Public displays of affection make people _really_ uncomfortable.” He spoke as if that was supposed to have some profound meaning.

“Yeah.” Sharon narrowed her gaze. “I thought you were Captain America, not Captain Obvious -“

Sharon found herself up against a wall - literally and figuratively - as Steve’s arms found their way around her body and his lips against hers. A muffled gasp of shock, then a note of confusion followed, but she found herself so caught up in the heated embrace that the protests died as soon as they began. Everything was hot and dizzying, impossible to pull away from but altogether perplexing.  One minute, they were avoiding mercenaries, and then the next…

His hands clutched at the fabric of her dress, and for the moment, Sharon completely forgot there was danger anywhere. She looped her arms around his neck, fingers threading into his hair, encouraging him further. She parted her lips, goading him on, wanting more. She spent far more time than she wanted to admit thinking about how good it would have felt to kiss him, and probably double that time rationalizing all the reasons why it wouldn’t have happened.

She’d need to re-evaluate her rationale.

For just a minute, she could just let herself revel in her desires. After months of having to lie to him for his safety, of then dancing around how well she knew him, but that he hardly knew her, it could finally be put aside. She reached up to undo his tie, tugging it from his neck and tossing it somewhere in the room. In response, she could feel him unzipping her dress all the way down her back.

She was so wrapped up, between her thoughts and the muscled arms keeping her pressed to his chest, that she didn’t even hear the card reader on the door. It wasn’t until it swung open and Steve’s lips parted from hers that she recognized they weren’t alone.

“ _De quoi?!_ _Sortez_!” He snapped, sounding about as affronted and frustrated as he could be. “ _Tu es fou?_ ” In a move of expert misdirection, Steve used the moment of confusion to wave the mercenaries back out and to shut the door behind them before they could do more than protest. Once the door was closed, Steve slid the chain lock back into place, punctuating the action with more French profanity and insulting statements about their… mothers? French was not one of the Sharon’s strong suits.

He was giving her a reason to consider picking that up.

Head still spinning, dress practically falling off of her now that he’d unzipped it, Sharon hugged herself and stilled so she could hear the reactions of the mercenaries on the other side of the door.

They were laughing.

While she couldn’t make out specifics, she could pick out the snippets of conversation that sounded like they would be talking about whether or not the Frenchman would actually be able to satisfy such a lady. Sharon decided it was better not to hear the rest of it. As she heard them actually give up their search, apparently more interested in a drink and a skin flick, she could finally breathe again.

“That…. actually worked.” The grin on Steve’s face couldn’t have just been from a hunch that had worked out. He was practically giddy.

“Yes, it did.” The agreement was all she could work out while she was debating if she could actually zip up the dress by herself as easily as she did last time.

“The French was a nice touch.”

“Well, I figured it wasn’t English and it wasn’t Russian, so it would disorient them. The, uh, the other stuff… Learned it from a friend.” He reached up to wipe his mouth and unbutton his collar. Her gaze seemed to be stuck on the triangle of skin he now had exposed.

“You have many friends…” Her mind threatened to stall out as he unbuttoned another button. Clearing her throat, she tore her eyes away from the temptation. “You have many friends you’d let shove their tongue down your throat?”

“What? No! That’s not what I meant!”

“Sooo,” She adjusted that shoulder strap again. Her hair had spilled over her shoulders as her bun had come loose, the dress was barely staying up. “What did you mean, then?”

“Look, I was on the run, and Natasha was right, it does make people uncomfortable - “

“ _Natasha_?” Sharon choked out a laugh. “Oh, c’mon, Rogers, you’re not _that_ naive. You knew exactly what you were doing when you asked me for a cup of coffee. But, hey -” She moved to throw her hands up in dismissal, but remembered that her dress wasn’t going to appreciate that and cancelled that maneuver. “I’m a modern woman, Nat’s a modern woman, I mean, I’m not judging, because she is very hot and guys like redheads - “

“We haven’t - I mean, that’s not what happened - Although she did say I needed practice - “ Steve seemed to be aware that he was digging himself into a hole he wasn’t sure how to get out of. “Why are we talking about Natasha exactly?”

“You brought her up,” She smirked. “And besides, I can’t complain, it’s not like I could’ve done anything about it, or would have done anything about it.” She could tell that he was growing more uncomfortable by the second, and she was unabashedly enjoying it. “Lines I won’t cross, remember? But, hey, whatever you did with her -”

“I _didn’t_ do anything with her.” He said, but the inflection made it sound almost like he was asking, rather than telling. Grinning, Sharon took a few steps closer. In response, Steve kept backing himself into the corner without realizing. “And for as helpful as she was in that situation, if I had known you better, I would have definitely preferred to be kissing you. Because I don’t like Natasha - I mean, I like her, but she’s a friend - but, that’s not to say I don’t like you -” Steve huffed as he bumped into the wall behind him. He stole a glance behind him. “I thought that was further away -”

“Shut up, Steve.” Sharon breathed. In the time it had taken for her to cross the distance between him, she’d already seen that if nothing else, Steve was still at least a _little_ taken by her. It reminded her of all those missed opportunities she’d had to engineer so she could keep close, but not _too_ close to him. And at the moment, she had no desire to miss any more.

Her fingers gripped the lapels of his tux jacket and pulled him closer so she could kiss him on her terms. His response was just as enthusiastic as hers had been, and he didn’t complain the moment she pushed that jacket off his shoulders. At first, they both seemed content to neck like a couple of high schoolers. She had control of their pace, as feverish as it was, and he was happy to give it to her. Although, his hands wandered back to her hips in no time, and this time, she could feel his fingers against the small of her back. Kneading and clutching, Steve’s hands were driving home that she wasn’t the only one who had thought about giving in.

When she finally needed air, she forced herself away long enough to breathe his name.

And apparently, he really liked hearing her say it.

No longer satisfied with giving Sharon the lead, his hands slipped lower to her thighs. In a swift motion, he lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist with ease, laughing a bit as she did so. Her arms were around his neck again, that shoulder strap falling completely off her shoulder. She quickly pulled her arm free of the cloth, but doing so must have thrown off his balance. The two of them swayed wildly and bumped into the wall. She wasn’t sure if she was giddy from anticipation, or just high on endorphins, but the entire situation was comical to her. She couldn’t contain the breathless giggle that left her, but she found her lips otherwise occupied as he kissed her again.

Her hips worked against his as a flash of lust struck her. The muffled groan that rumbled through Steve’s chest seemed to go directly to her stomach, and she could do no more than to repeat the motion. That time, he did have to break away, dropping his head against her shoulder. The chuckle she heard was heady with desire and frustration, and she filed that away as a reminder to find any opportunity to make him frustrated and turned on as much as possible. “Shar…” He chuckled. “You are _not_ helping.”

“You’re supposed to be able to function under any circumstances,” She rocked her hips once again, gasping as he used his strength to pin her hips against the wall a bit more forcefully than before. “Thought that was part of being a super-soldier.”

“Oh, I function.” He promised, pulling her from the wall only to drop her onto the bed.

Sharon had time to prop herself up onto her elbows before she watched Steve pulled off his dress shirt in one smooth motion. A small, unintentional sigh escaped her at the sight of all those muscles he normally had just barely hidden. She was always so focused on how much his personality pulled her in, it was easy to forget that that wasn’t the only reason she wanted to get this far. She quirked an eyebrow and shifted so she could tug the top of her dress down fully to her hips. Slowly, she hiked up the skirt inch by inch as she spoke before reaching up to unhook her bra. “Prove it, Captain.” 

“I plan on it.” He smiled as he unbuckled his belt. “But, I hate this tux.” Belt undone, he tugged it free before he covered her body with his and pulled her close. The touch of his bare skin to hers instantly made her melt. She didn’t care all that much about staying propped up. She allowed her body to relax beneath him, especially when his lips brushed against her collar. The touch was more intimate, but no less feverish than the others. His hands moved along her sides, as if he couldn’t get enough of her, but they wouldn’t climb high enough or low enough to do anything but frustrate her.

“Now, _you’re_ not helping.” She groaned as she rested her hands on his shoulders, massaging them without really knowing if she should urge him down or back up again.

He didn’t reply, but instead sent her a heated, defiant glance as his hand slipped to the cup of her bra then pulled it away. He tossed the fabric without much ceremony, then went back to running his lips along her skin. He had to be fully aware of what he was doing to her, because he took his damn time kissing lower and lower until his lips finally brushed against her sensitive and aroused nipple. Pleased, she hummed and squirmed a bit against him, but the way his other hand gripped her hip, she found herself unable to go very far.

She wasn’t sure how long he expected her to endure the teasing, but she was definitely having to work to his schedule. As his mouth worked to drive her insane, his hands had started to work at pulling her dress down completely. In order to get it off, though, he would have to shift from where he lay between her legs. For Sharon, that was definitely an opportunity. They could certainly go for slow and steady later, but for now, she just wanted him. Before something came up, before anything got complicated.

So, naturally, the moment he began to shift, Sharon used the change in his balance to roll them so he was on his back and she could straddle him.

Steve landed with an oof, a slightly perplexed expression on his face. She made another note that he was just full of sounds she liked, but otherwise busied herself with unbuttoning his slacks and working them off. It would have been easier to do that if Steve hadn’t started to play with the hem of her black bikini panties, as if to ask her to hurry up. There were so many things she wanted to do, but she didn’t actually have patience for all of them.

She ground her hips against his, relishing the friction while her hands moved to trace every inch of his chest. She could feel how turned on he was, and it didn’t matter how many ops she’d run, how many times she’d pulled her ass or someone else’s ass out of the fire, knowing that she had Steve Rogers beneath her, silently urging for her to end his torment, was the greatest power rush she’d ever felt. He was perfectly capable of flipping their positions. He was still Captain America. But, instead, he was a flustered, witty mess under her touch, and she wasn’t about to sacrifice that for anything.

“Sharon…” He breathed, bringing her out of her reverie. One of his hands had slipped towards her front, his thumb dropping down over the material. With expertise she shouldn't have been surprised by, he found his way between the folds of her skin and began to massage her clit. There was no hesitation or timidity in the action. He knew exactly what he was trying to do, and the moan he drew from her was proof that it was working. She let out a shaky breath, her hips working harder against his hand and the firm bulge in his pants. If he wasn’t careful, she wasn’t gonna let him even get those pants off before she had them both shaking with orgasms. At the moment, she wasn’t too terribly picky about how he came, but she wanted to hear it. Sharon Carter did not give up once she had a goal in mind.

She wanted to tease him, but banter had actually stopped coming to her for the moment. Instead, she simply leaned back to keep her hips going against his hand, adjusting slightly until she had just the right angle. While she wasn’t purposely trying to give him a show, she knew that her  panting and arching her back had to make one hell of a tableau.

They both seemed to lose track of time as his thumb kept working, a little more firm and more honed in on the precise angle she needed. It would’ve been fantastic to comment that his quick wit applied to the bedroom and not just the battlefield, but…. words were not her friend at the moment. Instead, all he got was another moan and a squeak of his name as she felt herself getting closer. Her legs began to quiver a little, she could feel herself edging closer. If that happened, she had a feeling she’d be putty. And that would give Steve the advantage. Couldn’t have that.

Trying to keep said advantage, she reached down to try pulling his hand away. That had given him a signal that she was losing control, that he was certainly winning her over, because he refused to change his motions. “C’mon, Sharon…” He coaxed, a flat out boyish, devious grin on his face as he watched her writhe above him. His thumb kept working, so she tried to tug with both hands. And then he grabbed both her wrists in one hand and held them _out of the way._

“Dammit, Rogers!” She gasped, only for her hips to buck in what should have been protest. Instead, he pulled another undignified moan from her as her legs shook of their own accord and the flush of a strong orgasm ran hot through her body. Her thighs felt weak, but she didn’t have a choice except to ride out what her body was taking. His thumb had stilled while she worked through the sensations, but the moment she could meet his gaze, he wiggled it again, almost as if to say ‘Gotcha.’ She squeaked and struggled against the grip he had on her wrists, hips bucking. “No! Not fair!”

“You’re the one on top of me, I think that means you’re not being fair. Now, c’mere.” With a squeak, lurched forward as Steve pulled her to him. They rolled again, but instead of him pinning her, he took the opportunity to strip down out of his slacks. When he let go of her wrists to do that, she gladly took the chance to reciprocate. Her hand went for his boxers in a flash, fingers nimbly slipping underneath the materials so she could grip what she’d been thinking about for far longer than just the evening. And she certainly wasn’t disappointed. He grunted at the sudden contact, arm nearly buckling from how he had to be braced against the bed. As she wrapped her fingers around his cock, he managed to get the slacks off to one foot, but simply had to drop onto the bed on his side, huffing. “Oh, come on…” He moaned, at a loss. “I…” Whatever he was trying to say, he couldn’t seem to convey it. “Oh, God…” Reaching out with his free hand, he grabbed hold of her bicep, gently tugging her closer. “Sharon, please… I’ve wanted you for a _long_ time, don’t make me wait longer.”

The lust gave way for a moment to the raw, honest emotion in what he’d said. It actually made her hand pause before she set off on another game to see who could outlast who. For a second, it wasn’t about that. He was being just as honest about how long they’d danced around each other, and she didn’t want to tease him. She wanted him, just as much as he wanted her.

Pulling away, she made quick work of her panties and shifted so he could have more room on the bed. This was definitely happening. A moment of panic set in. _Shit,_ this was happening. And she did not have her normal emergency-on-a-date kit. Thinking on her feet, she rolled to her stomach and pulled the drawer of the nightstand. She let out an audible sigh of relief as her fingers landed on a kit. “Thank you God for five-star hotels.” Sharon pulled the intimacy kit free and fumbled around for a condom. She also picked up a little tube of lubricant, only to start giggling uncontrollably, considering how slick she already was. “I don’t think we need that…”

“Remind me next time,” Steve groaned as he reached over and pulled the condom from her, taking care of it himself. “To, I dunno, make you lose your mind a few more times so you’re still so…. sassy.”

Sharon’s jaw dropped in mock offense. “I’m fairly certain you like me sassy, Steve.”

“Sometimes,” he breathed, pulling her into another embrace, steering her back on top. Oh, smart man. “ _Sometimes_ …”

“Y’know,”  She sat up and let her hair spill over one shoulder as she shifted for a good position. “For an apple-pie-loving boy scout, you seem to know plenty about how to shut me up.”

“We had plenty of sexy things in the 40s, mind you.” Steve sat up and pulled her close. “It’s just that none of them were you.” His lips crushed against hers as he shifted their positioning again. In a moment, he thrust into her with ease, her body hot, slick and ready for him. He drew another moan from her, but this one was swallowed as he parted her lips and demanded the feverish kisses she wanted to return.

Any reply she had for him was out of her mind. Instead, she was too focused on how much he’d filled her, and how much her body wanted him to thrust into her until she was crying and begging. The two of them remained locked together, motionless from the waist down as they both forced their bodies to recover and acclimate to the new intimacy. Steve’s arm was wrapped around her, fingers splayed across the middle of her back in a way that made her feel like she was practically a toy in his hands. He could pretty much do whatever he wanted at that moment. She’d want to fight for the top later. RIght now, she could enjoy the way his breath chuffed hot along her cheek, her collar, and occasionally against her jaw. Judging by those sounds, she had a feeling that he was in the same state of momentary euphoria she was.

She wasn’t positive which one of them decided they’d had enough time waiting, but the first time she felt his hips flex again, she knew that there was going to be nothing slow or patient about what would follow. With a huff, she leaned forward, steering Steve back to the bed. Once he was flat on his back, she leaned back so she could take control. And she certainly did.

Sharon didn’t have a lot of patience for girls who just laid down aimlessly in bed. And now that she was exactly where she wanted to be, the rhythm Sharon set for her hips had Steve groaning and panting in moments. She rose and fell quick and hard on his cock, hands braced against his thighs so tightly she’d probably leave nail marks. But, she didn’t care.

There had been so many times that Sharon had had to leave Steve in the hallway, sweaty and breathless after one of his runs, and spent the next hour in the shower thinking about how she desperately wanted to bring that out in him. Finally, after months of fantasies that she knew would never happen, because that was a line she’d _never_ cross, she was in the position to do that. In the dim light of the hotel room, they could barely see each other, but she knew he was at her mercy beneath her. Something told her that wouldn’t always happen, but she was gonna relish it right then and there.

She could hear him panting at how beautiful she was as his hands wandered from her hips up to her breasts, massaging them eagerly. With another few skilled movements of her hips, though, he had to drop them to clutch at the bedspread, groaning. If she was the kind of woman who needed to hear affirmation from him on how good she was, she would’ve asked, but she was much better at reading body language than the average partner. She was also trying to focus on controlling her own body, wanting to ride him until he saw stars. Something told her that trying to outlast a supersoldier was going to be a fun exercise, but ultimately a lost cause.

He must’ve predicted that, because his hand was back on her again, that thumb zeroing right in on the single most sensitive bundle of nerves on her body and _playing_ with it, like it was an absent habit.

“I want to know what it feels like when you lose it because of me…” He coaxed, catching her off-guard. She was already a mess of sensation from her last orgasm, and that did not help her attempt to keep control. The rhythm of his hips remained steady, even as she found her legs shaking again, betraying how stoic she thought she could’ve been. Knowing what he wanted to see, feel, and hear was more than enough to send her over the edge again.

With another yelp, Sharon buckled, muscles tightening around him. Her body reacted to the stimuli faster than she could prevent it, and she let loose the long moan she’d been trying to suppress. She shook and lost all sense of rhythm. His hips were still pistoning into her, faster although his own pace was erratic. She couldn’t help but drop down to lay against him, rocking to help him work to his own release, still humming from the throes of her own climax.

His hands found the sheets once again. With a strangled groan, she felt his hips jerk once more and his entire body tense. Holding her tight, Steve found her lips again and kissed her until he relaxed beneath her, coming down from his high.

Finally, Sharon pulled away long enough to pull her hips away and to slide onto her side next to him.

“Holy. Shit.” She panted.

“I second that.” He chuckled beside her. He didn’t seem to be in much of a mood to move, much like her. He shifted enough to clean up and then lazily grab the bedspread to sort of throw over both of them. “Why didn’t we do that sooner?”

“Because…” She glanced over at him with a smile. “I owed you a cup of coffee.”

“Right,” He beamed, clearly blissed out enough that someone could have flown a plane over them and he wouldn’t have noticed. “So… technically… I think you still do. I bought the last couple of cups.”

“Tell you what…” She rolled closer to him, dropping her head casually on his bicep to use as a pillow. “The Keurig in here works. That count?”

Steve paused, watching her for a long moment before he finally ventured a response. “Sure. But with two stipulations.”

“Name ‘em.”

“One, let’s make sure we get out of this hotel alive, and we’ll work - together - to go after Borodin again.”

“And the other?”           

With a little wiggle of his eyebrow, he pulled her in closer. “We get to do that again. Because I gotta tell you, it’s been at least two years since New York and you might have spoiled me.”

Sharon sat up some, curious in spite of herself. “New York?”

“Yeah…” He already sounded distracted again, and it took her a moment to realize he was tracing her skin again with his fingers. “Come to think of it, she was blonde, too.”

“So, you have a type?”

He shrugged a little. “Yeah, I’m starting to think that you might be the paragon, though, which means I’m in trouble if I mess this up.”

A laugh escaped her louder than she intended. “You’d have to screw up way more than that.”

Steve balked. “Where did I screw up?!”

Sharon knew she answered him with something completely untrue, but by the time he stopped poking her and finding every tickle spot she had as if they were children, well… she kinda forgot.

And true to form, Sharon had two cups of coffee brewed before the sun was up. 


End file.
